As Lionel walked into Franklin’s office, he was surprised to find Bridgette, Denise, and Flip already there. Flip sat in a wheelchair with Denise sitting in a straight back chair next to him. Bridgette sat on the couch, so Lionel joined her. Three grueling days had passed with no definitive word about the missing children. While Pat Vogt continued working on the case, there’d been no new information from her even though she checked in with Denise daily.
“Anyone know what this meeting is about?” He asked after saying hello to everyone.
“Nope,” Flip replied. “We were all delivered the news that we were to meet here at 4 pm, but no further details were given.”
“Well, who called the meeting?” Lionel asked.
“I did,” Chunk said as he entered the room followed close behind by Franklin. He strolled behind Franklin’s desk and sat down, leaving the administrator to find another chair.
“We have an update on the search that came in earlier today from the Coast Guard. I wanted to bring everyone up to date. I’m afraid it’s not good news.” He leaned forward and dropped the folder he’d been carrying on the desk.
“What happened?” Bridgette and Denise asked at the same time.
“Have they found our babies?” Denise asked.
“Might I remind you that they are not babies, not by a long shot?” Chunk replied.
“They’ll always be our babies,” Denise retorted. “All of them, not just Heather and Mia. All of them are our children.”
“Yes, well, I’m afraid this will be especially difficult to hear in that case,” Chunk continued. He opened the folder and referred to the paper within it.
“At 9:45 AM today the Coast Guard located debris and an oil slick consistent with an aircraft crashing into the ocean on the fringes of the area known as the Bermuda Triangle. The water in that area is very deep, but the Coast Guard is convinced from the objects they were able to retrieve that it’s the remains of the missing Black Hawk. There is no sign of any survivors.”
Chunk closed the folder and tapped its surface. “And that’s that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lionel asked. “That’s that?”
“I’m officially closing the case on the Kindred,” Chunk replied. “Oh, the Coast Guard will continue to look for survivors, but I doubt they’ll find any, so I’m closing the case. I’ll be finalizing a few details with Franklin here, and will be out of your hair by the end of the day. I’ll let Franklin take over from there.”
“Now, wait just a minute,” Lionel started. “You can’t do that? They may still be out there. Besides, what about the boy? We still don’t know what happened…”
“I’m turning that over to the F.B.I,” Chunk replied. “If he’s still alive, which I doubt, they’ll track him down.”
“But…” Lionel started again.
“Thank you, Chunk,” Flip interrupted from his wheelchair. He wheeled himself forward towards the center of the room. “If we could have a few minutes with the ladies.”
Denise and Bridgette had rushed to each others side at the news where they stood hugging each other. Flip glanced over at his three friends, smiled and winked, then turned back to Chunk.
“Yes, sure,” Chunk replied. “Franklin, if you’ll come with me. I’d like to go over a last few details with you.” The two men rose from their seats and left.
“What was that all about?” Lionel asked turning to his friend.
“Yeah, you don’t believe what he said, do you?” Denise asked, still hugging Bridgette for support.
“Oh, I believe they found what the report says,” Flip replied. “And I think it’s important that Chunk believe that we believe him. That way we can get him out of our hair…so we can get on with finding our children.”
Lionel, Denise, and Bridgette started to throw a torrent of questions to Flip, but he simply raised his hand until everyone stopped talking.
“I have a confession to make.” He bowed his head, clearly embarrassed by what he was about to say.
“Go on, Flip,” Lionel said. “We’re all friends here.”
Flip nodded. “Yes we are, and so it’s particularly difficult for me to admit that I haven’t been completely honest or forthcoming with you regarding the children.”
He raised his head and looked around at them before continuing.
“I do remember Alp visiting my room. In fact, I’m the one who initiated it.”
“So, you can communicate with them!” Lionel said, then added. “Wait. When I asked you about it the other day, what you said was all a lie?” Lionel asked. He could hear an edge to his voice despite his effort to keep it light.
“Well, not completely,” Flip replied. “At that point it was true that I’d not made contact with any of the children.”
“But since then?” Denise asked. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Have you had any contact since then?”
Flip nodded. “Yes, with Alp. It wasn’t long, just a minute or two. She said she couldn’t really talk right then, that I’d connected at a bad time, but…”
“…But?” Denise squeezed his shoulder to encourage him to continue.
“I don’t know, but I felt something else—a sense of urgency.”
“Do you think they were in the midst of crashing?” Lionel asked.
“Maybe, but that doesn’t really make sense to me. Does it to you? I mean, if you were about to go down in the middle of the Atlantic, wouldn’t you try to convey your location? She didn’t. In fact, she was quite secretive about it.”
The four of them stood there looking at each other trying to make sense of what Flip was saying.
It was Lionel who spoke first. “But if they were in the process of faking the accident…”
“Exactly,” Flip said. “Then being secretive would make perfect sense.”
“Do you think it’s possible they may still be alive?” Bridgette asked as she reached out and grasped Denise’s hand.
“I feel certain of it,” Flip answered. “Maybe I’m completely wonky about this, but if they had all been killed, I think I would have felt something.”
This last comment stunned everyone into silence.
“So, now what?” Lionel finally asked.
“I think it’s paramount that I make contact with them somehow,” Flip replied.
“But how?” Bridgette asked.
“I haven’t a clue.”
Part 2: Geluk
The Shunning House
For the next two days Alp and her sisters remained confined to the trawler, most of that time below deck in the storage room where the smell worsened with the addition of their own body odor. Alp finally convinced the tall black sailor who’d been left on board by Damba and reminded her of the genie in the Aladdin stories to bring extra water so they could wash themselves. Still, the cramped conditions didn’t add to their overall impression of their new surroundings.
Of course, Tabitha constantly complained about the conditions, egged on by Kirstin. Their mood began to infect the rest of them, all except Tina who kept a positive attitude. She also became their primary source of entertainment as she invented new games to play and told stories that she appeared to make up on the spot. Tina’s warm, dark brown hair and matching brown eyes blended well with her dark tanned complexion. Her smile was her most noticeable feature in part because, unlike some of her sisters, she was almost always smiling. She preferred wearing her hair long and straight though Alp had noticed that it tended to become frizzy in the moist climate.
At one point, Alp took her aside and asked her how she could maintain such a calm and positive mood.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered with a smile. “It’s not always easy, especially with our two sour puss sisters, but I look at how unhappy they are most of the time. I figure life is too short to spend it being unhappy, especially with us growing older a lot faster than normal children. That’s what Dr. Chickowski told us, and my research on the internet confirmed it.”
> “Yeah, Mel and I noticed that as well,” Alp said. “I guess you’re right. If there’s anyone who should be limiting their negativity it should be us. Not sure Tabitha or Kirstin are likely to learn that lesson anytime soon.”
“Well, I wouldn’t let them get under your skin,” Tina said as she put an arm around Alp. “You’re doing just fine. You got us away from BVT and also away from whoever it was that tried to kidnap us. We won’t be cooped up on this boat for much longer.”
Alp nodded. “I sure hope you’re right.”
Turned out Tina was right. Later that same afternoon Damba returned to the ship. It was clear looking at him that it hadn’t been an easy two days for him either.
“Bad news?” Alp asked. She was in the middle of the twenty minutes she was allowed on deck and was enjoying the fresh air.
“No, not bad…not exactly good news either; least not as good as I’d hoped.”
“What’s the verdict?” Alp asked. She held her breath. What would they do if they had to leave the island? Where would they go that they wouldn’t be found?
“You can stay,” Damba said.
Alp breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good…”
“It’s on a trial basis,” Damba continued, “And you won’t be allowed in the village.”
“What does that mean? If not in the village, where?”
“In the Shunning House.”
“The what? That doesn’t sound very inviting.”
Damba chuckled. “Well, it’s not as bad as it sounds, and I’m hoping it’s only temporary until the others get to know you and accept you. Several years ago one of our women was condemned for being promiscuous. She was married but was caught sleeping with another man, something our tribe strictly prohibits. The tribe expelled her, but her husband begged the council to not send her to the mainland, which could have created problems if she started talking. The council agreed she could stay on the island. They had a hut built for her outside the perimeter of the village. She was never allowed to return. She spent the rest of her life in isolation. She eventually went mad. Her husband remarried but died a few years later. It was an unhappy time for many. Anyway, she died a little less than a year ago. Her house is still there.”
“And that’s where we’re to stay, isolated as well?”
“I’m afraid so,” Damba replied.
“Will you be allowed to visit?” Alp asked. Suddenly, the thought of not being able to see him felt like the worst punishment of all.
“It won’t be easy, but there’s no way they’ll be able to keep me away from my new friend,” Damba replied.
Alp noticed he’d used the singular—friend. For some reason, that felt especially good.
Lionel, Bridgette and Denise agreed to meet later to discuss the recent turn of events somewhere away from BVT to assure no one would overhear their plans. In the meantime, Denise and Bridgette agreed to meet with Pat Vogt to give her an update after they returned Flip to his room. Lionel decided to return to his lab, but as he began to leave, he noticed Franklin walking down the hall. No time like the present to confront his boss about the missing template. He decided a frontal attack would be the best strategy.
“Hello, Franklin. May I have a word with you?”
“Certainly,” Franklin replied. “Let’s step into my office.”
The two of them walked back through the outer office as Mrs. Petty, Franklin’s secretary glared at them.
“Make up your mind whether you’re coming or going,” she said. Franklin smiled at her, apparently immune from her caustic nature.
“What can I do for you, my good man?” Franklin asked as he sat down behind his desk that had been mostly occupied by Chunk of late.
“You can return the template,” Lionel said. He remained standing, trying to look as imposing and intimidating as possible.
“The what?” Franklin asked, clearly confused by the request.
“The template that I’ve spent the last five years of my life developing,” Lionel replied, not trying to suppress the anger that grew inside him. “It’s missing, and I happen to know that you stole it from my lab. I want it returned so I can destroy it.”
“Whoa here, Lionel. Those are pretty strong allegations you’re throwing around. Might I remind you that I’m still your boss? Who told you that I was in your lab?”
“So you don’t deny it?” Lionel countered.
“I neither deny it or admit to it,” Franklin replied. “I’m a busy man despite what you may think. Made even busier of late because of your friend’s screw up I might add. Again, I ask you who told you I was in your lab?”
“Dr. Chickowski,” Lionel admitted.
“Oh really; he did, did he? Let’s see, would that be the same Dr. Chickowski who attempted to kidnap the children and to turn them over to some other researchers? The same Dr. Chickowski that’s now lying in a hospital room after being shot as he tried to escape? And why on Earth would you believe such a man?”
Lionel opened his mouth to reply, when he was interrupted by the beep of the intercom on Franklin’s desk.
Franklin reached over and tapped on it. “Mrs. Petty, I’m in a meeting with…”
“The hospital just called,” Mrs Petty interrupted. “I thought you’d want to talk with them. It appears that Dr. Chickowski has managed to check himself out.”
“What!” Franklin and Lionel shouted at the same time.
“Just what I said,” Mrs. Petty replied smugly, obviously pleased by the reaction her news produced. “No one has seen hide nor hair of him for the past hour despite searching the premises fully. It appears he’s just disappeared.”
After a long pause during which Franklin stared at Lionel, he finally said, “Thank you, Mrs. Petty. Tell them to hold for just a minute. I’ll be right with them.”
He continued to stare at Lionel for another moment. “Now, you were saying?”
Lionel shook his head, his face and neck suddenly felt very warm. “Never mind. It’s obvious that I’ve been thoroughly duped. It must have been Dr. Chickowski all along.”
“Yes, well, that would appear to be the case,” Franklin replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a call to take.”
As Damba led Alp and her sisters around the perimeter of the village, many of its inhabitants came out of their huts to view the new arrivals, but no one spoke to them. The women all wore simple smock dresses died in a rainbow of different colors though all were faded from being washed many times. Most of the men wore similar clothes like Damba and Kambuji, beige shirts and pants or shorts. No one seemed to own a pair of shoes. Behind them, Alp could make out rows of small, straw-covered huts constructed from an assortment of building material, including branches, driftwood, mud, and straw. When Alp tried to make eye contact with any of the villagers, each one lowered their gaze to the ground.
“Are they afraid I’m going to hex them or something?” She asked Damba.
“Well, you must understand my people are superstitious by nature, plus we know the power of juju; both good and bad.”
Meanwhile, the rest of the Kindred walked behind Alp and Damba, gazing around with their mouths open in awe at their new surroundings.
“We’re supposed to live in a shack like those?” Tabitha asked. “No way!”
Alp turned around at the comment. “Shhh, be quiet. Where are your manners? We’re guests here.”
“But…” Tabitha started then stopped when Mia, who was walking beside her, jabbed an elbow into her ribs.
“It’s a fascinating place, Damba,” Mia said. “We thank you for sharing your home with us.”
“Are those real palm trees?” Tina asked, pointing to a clump of the tall trees swaying in the breeze.
“Yes,” Damba replied. “But, unfortunately, they aren’t the kind on which coconuts grow.”
“Too bad,” Tina whispered.
They’d walk a short distance further when Alp noticed a large circular hut in the center of the village like the hub of a large wheel
. Alp estimated it to be close to thirty feet in diameter, built mostly of branches and straw with a thatch roof like the other smaller huts. But unlike the other huts an assortment of objects made from bones, feathers, and vines decorated its walls. From inside Alp heard melodious chanting accompanied by a low rhythmic drumming.
“What’s that?” Alp asked, pointing to the building.
“That’s the Circle of Shamans,” Damba replied, then realizing Alp needed more explanation continued. “You know how I mentioned how our island is protected from detection from outsiders?”
“Yes, and I also felt it,” Alp said.
“Well, the Circle of Shamans creates the juju that protects the island. Actually, it’s not one circle but three. Each circle is made up of six novice students of Babalawo, our shaman. They rotate every eight hours, so we’re protected twenty-four hours a day.”
“And you believe that chanting and drumming is what protects the island?” Alp asked.
“In this case, it doesn’t matter whether I believe it or not. In the sixteen years I’ve lived on this island, no one has ever found us. In fact, you’re the first and only outsiders who have been permitted on the island in well over a hundred years.”
Alp thought about what Damba said then replied. “But what kind of life is it for the novices? They spend most of their waking hours confined to that one building.”
“Their role on the island is considered one of our most honored callings,” Damba replied. “Besides, from what I understand from Zunga, it’s not all that different for most people on the mainland. They spend most of their time in some office cubicle so their family can have a safe place to live and food to eat. At least with our novices, they know that their work matters. It’s what keeps us safe.”
He paused for a moment before adding, “I’d say that following and fulfilling your calling makes for a pretty incredible life. May we all be so fortunate.”
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